This. THIS is why I was sent.
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom to the captives and the opening of the prison to those who are bound, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort those who mourn; to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord that he may be glorified.
Isaiah 61:1-3
To proclaim freedom to the captives… to proclaim freedom to the captives… to proclaim freedom to the captives…
It was our first day of prison ministry. We didn’t know what to expect. In fact, we had absolutely no expectations. The only information we were going off of were the various descriptions of the day of ministry we were about to do: “brief,” “encouraging,” and “Spirit-lead.” We went with willing spirits, anxious to see what the Lord had for us.
We waited with anticipation for our host Joel, to come pick us up in the Land Rover. We pack sandwiches and oranges and pile into the back, enjoying a bumpy dirt road as our welcome into prison. We can’t take anything into prison so we leave everything behind and just take our water. I pretend our water bottles are just us carrying the Holy Spirit inside- all we need. Living Water.
We get stares and nods as we walk to the entrance, file in, and sign our names in a big book. Gates, doors, locks, barbed wire and cinder block decorate this home of hundreds of men. We follow our host across the courtyard. I do my best to smile at anyone I make eye contact with. I can almost hear what their stares are saying: “What are a bunch of muzungos doing here?” And I answer them in my head: “God sent me here. But I have no idea why.”
We step into a small dark room full of desks that host 10 smiling men behind them. They are a part of the discipleship program that our hosts Joel and Tara are a part of and they greet us like long lost brothers and sisters. We spend time singing with them. When moments like this happen, where I find myself in unusual and incredible moments, like singing Swahili worship songs in a prison, that’s when my awe and wonder at God comes out in full swing. It’s also when satan likes to remind me that I shouldn’t be there, that I’m not worthy enough. But actually when the enemy likes to remind me of that, I turn it around and make it an statement of encouragement. Technically, if I had let evil win in my life, I should be dead. I shouldn’t be there. But I am! God rescued me, set my feet on solid rock, and sent me to some of the darkest places in the world. My worship gets louder!
After some time with these 10 smiling men, the chaplain of the prison comes to escort us around the prison. We follow blindly, unaware of what is expected of us. He stops in front of one of the 8 wards, ward number 4, and asks the guard to let us in. We look at each other with nervous smiles and wonder what’s on the other side of this door, but I can feel the Holy Spirit about to muster up something in us. I am IMMEDIATELY overwhelmed once I am inside- the smells, the sounds, the sights of maybe 200 men crowded in this concrete room. Handmade mattresses are laid out on the floor and men are hustled around and quieted down for their “visitors.” The chaplain, Richard, introduces us in Swahili and says some other things and my heart rate rises as he turns to us and says “I just told them that you have traveled very far to come and visit them and preach to them.”
Preach? We chuckle to ourselves. This is the World Race. You roll with whatever is thrown at you. Everyone steps forward to introduce themselves while Richard translates and tell where they are from and in between looking at each other to who is going to step forward and preach. I asked every single one of my teammates, but knew in my soul that God was pressing me to speak. I stepped forward and gave my name and hometown, but could not stop speaking after that. God’s love He had for these men overcame me and the message of the good news flowed from my lips without preparation. I spoke the gospel as if these men had never heard it before and I jumped up and down out of excitement for the overwhelming and steadfast love the Lord had for them.
Many years ago in Ecuador God whispered to me about a group of little kids “Do you see them? Do you see my lost children and how much I love them? I so desperately wish for them to know Me.” Those same whispers came flooding back but this time for grown men who have found themselves in prison, lost, with no hope.
I told them my story, about how the enemy likes to remind me that I should be dead, but instead God pulled me out of a dark place and sends me to dark places to help pull others out. I told them about Jesus. I couldn’t stop talking, yet I had not planned anything to speak. The Holy Spirit had things to say to these men and He did, leading me to tears and shouts that could only be from Him. I told them how much I love them because God first loved me, I emphasized the depth of God’s love for them and that He had ordained this moment for them to hear the good news. I was about to finish and turn away when Richard stops me and says “Let’s see if anyone wants to commit their lives to Jesus.”
“Oh yeah, sure, of course.” I felt silly for not thinking of it myself but turned back around and let Richard ask the room of hundreds of men if anyone would like to know Jesus personally. I stood back in amazement as I watched a dozen men stand up in confidence proclaiming they want to give their lives to Jesus. And my tears flow a little harder, finding myself sitting back in wonder at my God who would use a simple broken sinner like me to reach his boys that were lost in prison.
I wept like Jesus once did and thanked Him for His goodness, then stretched out my hands over them and lead them in a prayer of repentance and surrender. Afterward my heart yearned to stay and learn their names, look each of them in the eye and tell them how much their Savior loves and adores them, yet we were pulled to another ward. I waved goodbye and said Prison Ward 4 will be in my prayers and that God has a hope and a future for each of them.
I walked out shaking my head that only God could do a miracle like that- taking little ‘ole me to speak to a group of men across the world in a PRISON of all places.
This. THIS is why I was sent.
